Space Hostages (21 page)

“You said . . . the Nangaelyeva?” I asked. “Are they the people who took Naonwai?”

“Yes,”
said Hoolinyae.
“Eemala in the service of the Krakkiluks, who force the laws of the Grand Expanse on their own kind.”

“You don't worry the Nangaelyeva or the Krakkiluks will find out about you? Even though the children know about you and the Nangaelyeva catch them sometimes?”

“It is fortunate that they have learned to think so little of children. They are concerned that they should not grow up to be Free Eemala without collars. That is all,”
said Hoolinyae.

“Besides,”
said Eenyo grimly,
“there are always more of us. There are far more of us than they dream.”

“So . . . what will happen to Naonwai, then?”

“You will see,”
said Eenyo.

We could see another golden shore in the distance. Below us, the water was scattered with bobbing rafts, on which Eemala stood in ones and twos, scattering something from barrels into the sea. The water splashed and fizzed with activity beneath the surface. The Eemala were feeding something.

Beyond, there were great round netted pens in the water, like fish farms, and the Eemala were tending to those too.

“Oh,” said Josephine, in her I-have-just-deduced-something-important voice.

“. . . Yes?” I said warily.

“The pink things in the water. They're Krakkiluk spawn, aren't they?”

I remembered the wriggly things, their six legs, and the pinkness of the Krakkiluks under all their decorations.

“Ohhh,” I said.

“So that's what the Krakkiluks use this planet for,” said Carl.

“Naonwai will be fitted with a Nangael, first,”
said Eenyo
. “And he will be set to work here, or somewhere like it: tending to the Krakkiluk spawn. The regime and its servants will say it will be a better life. There is even some choice—perhaps he can grow food for the spawn, or drive a skybus for the workers. The spawn spend the first five, six years in the water. Many of them die there, and far more would do so if we did not tend and feed them. When they begin to leave the water, we care for them. Teach them to speak.”

We flew over a clutch of little islands. The beaches looked pink at first until you realized they were heaped with Krakkiluk babies. They were keening softly, perhaps with hunger, or perhaps with
the recent shock of the transition from water to land.

Flocks of Eemala were busy on the beaches and in the air above. I could see some wading, helping the Krakkiluks out of the water. A lavender-furred Eemala flew in soothing circles above the island, holding a young Krakkiluk, almost as big as she was, rocking it in four thin arms with strange tenderness.

Big and cumbersome as it was, the baby Krakkiluk looked pathetically vulnerable.

“So they conquer your planet and then have their babies in your seas and then
make you look after them
?” I said.

“Yes. At the expense of our own children. They are not all orphans, the children of the rubbish dump.”

“That's awful,” I said.

“Huh,” snorted Carl. “It actually sounds really familiar.”

I thought about some things from Earth history that, yeah, maybe weren't all that different and thought perhaps I'd better shut up.

“They have so many worlds like this,”
said Eenyo.
“All subject to the Grand Expanse.”

“Warm seas,” said Josephine, her eyes very wide. “They can grow Takwuk on a cold world. But you've got warm seas.”

“What?” said Carl.

“Do you remember what Lady Sklat-kli-Sklak said was the main thing they knew about Earth?
It has warm seas.
”

There was a silence, but not because any of us needed to think through what she meant.

“Oh, god,” I said.

“The Grand Expanse is always . . . expanding,”
said Eenyo.

“We have to get home. We have to
warn
everyone,” I said, or tried to say.

Except a fit of coughing mangled the last part.

W
e plunged into a forest of root arches so high and tangled that you couldn't make out the ground below. Flights of four-winged blue creatures drifted up from its coils, and the funnels rang like a great wind organ.

“Everything's very tense and all, but I think we should still yell
woo
now,” announced Carl as a huge loop studded with ruby funnels reared ahead.

No one objected, so as we soared straight through, Carl and I yelled out all the joy of flying, and the Wurrhuya cried and the sound melted into all the songs of the wilderness itself.

But Josephine stayed silent, and Carl and I both ended up coughing again.

Then there were cliffs of gray stone furred with golden moss before us, and we were flying into a cave as immense as a cathedral. The roots burst through the inner rock walls and coiled through the cave, strung with cables and electric lights. Here and there, shelves had been built among them, some filled with crates of food, others with strange devices, and others with scrolls that must have been books.

Hoolinyae and Eenyo, rather worryingly, leaped off their steeds in midair, leaving us on the backs of flying wild creatures we had no idea how to control. But the Wurrhuya didn't seem to need controlling; they alighted just as gracefully as we'd seen them do before, and one lowered its head to a stream winding through the bottom of the cave. We had reached the rebels' hideout.

I was pretty much done with coughing, but Josephine slid off the Wurrhuya and seized my arm in an almost painful grip. I tried to smile at her. “I'm okay,” I said.

“You're not,” Josephine said wretchedly.

“Tlrrk-ehk plit-li-klep,”
crunched a Krakkiluk voice, and once again we all jumped and looked around for the enemy.

This time it wasn't the Goldfish. There was a real Krakkiluk, scuttling close—it hadn't seen us
yet, but it was going to—and it carried a huge bucket of feed for the Wurrhuya, and now it was stroking the furry neck of the Wurrhuya and making a low, contented, grinding sound in its throat that was almost
purring
. . . .

It saw us. It hadn't expected there to be anyone still on the Wurrhuya, let alone aliens.

“Aakk. Krrk-tal quut-ni skekh!”
it exclaimed, dropping the bucket.

And another Krakkiluk appeared—of course, where there was one Krakkiluk there was almost bound to be another, hurrying toward its mate.

“Okh-rlk akli-trk,”
said the second Krakkiluk—this time the Goldfish caught up with the subtitles.

“What is it, O rebel jewel?”

“I'm sorry. We should have warned you,”
said Hoolinyae, descending.
“All of you. Humans, this is Kat-li-Yaka, and this is Qualt-zu-Quo.”

“
They're on
your
side?” I said, incredulous.

“Ugh
,
KraKLOO!” squawked a horrified voice, before introductions could get any further, and Uwaelee shot up from somewhere under the Wurr-huya's belly and hovered in trembling outrage in the air.

“Wurrrgh!” sighed the Wurrhuya Carl had been riding, sounding relieved.

“
Were you, like, hanging on to its fur the whole way?” said Carl, and would probably have added “Cool!” but realized from Hoolinyae's and Eenyo's bristling fur that it wouldn't be tactful.

“Uwaelee!”
hooted Hoolinyae, appalled.
“You were forbidden to come with us.”

Uwaelee didn't pay any attention.
“Why are there Krakkiluks here?”

“This is foolish and dangerous,”
said Hoolinyae.

“Everything is dangerous,”
Uwaelee retorted.

“The cause of the Free Eemala is not a game for children,”
Eenyo said.

Uwaelee grabbed hold of a loop of root with her feet and flipped upside down, facing him.

“Do you think I think it is?”
she asked passionately.
“Do you think I thought it was a game for Naonwai today? I had to come. I have to fight them. How old were you when you began? Today is the right time for me.”

Hoolinyae's and Eenyo's fur smoothed and their ears drooped.

“Also these are my aliens,”
said Uwaelee, flipping right side up and patting us.
“Now why are there these . . . hairy Krakkiluks here?”

Kat-li-Yaka and Qualt-zu-Quo held claws nervously and waggled their eyes at us. They
did
look
different from the ones we'd seen before. Their shells were patterned with the kind of green-and-yellow swirls and geometric patterns the Eemala liked for their wings. And they were also, well . . . hairy
was
the only word for it. Reddish bristles emerged from their exoskeletons and quivered slightly. None of the other Krakkiluks I'd seen had had those.

“They help us,”
said Hoolinyae. She paused.
“In their own way.”

“These are called humans. Josephine, Carl, and Alice,”
said Eenyo.
“The children at Laeteelae found them.”

“
I
found them
,” Uwaelee corrected.

“Are you victims of the Grand Expanse?”
asked Kat-li-Yaka.
“We do not support the Grand Expanse! We have spurned its lies and flung aside its hateful privileges! We were born on this planet. We are true children of Yaela!”

“Oh, okay,” I said.

“We yearn for Yaela's freedom! We gladly share the struggles of the oppressed Eemala!”
agreed Qualt-zu-Quo.
“We almost
are
Eemala!”

“Ugh, KraKLOO,”
Uwaelee growled under her breath, the ridge of lilac fur on her back bristling noticeably.

“O brave star of Yaela,”
intoned Kat-li-Yaka.

“O untamed flower,”
said Qualt-zu-Quo.

“O defiant heart,”
said Kat-li-Yaka.

“Oh, they do that, too,” said Carl.

Kat-li-Yaka and Qualt-zu-Quo were well on their way into a romantic trance when a new voice hooted,
“OeLUYA ul-ing SUplae yee?”
which the Goldfish gamely subtitled as
“What is all this fuss?”

An Eemala descended from the coils above. Male, I thought from the ears, and he was a lot shaggier all over than any of the others, and fatter than most.

“What are those?”
he demanded, pointing at us.

“Ningleenill!”
Uwaelee cried, delighted.

“They're aliens, sir,”
said Eenyo.

“I can see they're aliens. Do you take me for an idiot?”
scoffed the newcomer, and by now I was sure that he was a lot older than Hoolinyae or Eenyo.
“What are they doing here?”

“They fell from a Krakkiluk ship into my dump!”
Uwaelee explained eagerly and not quite accurately.
“I found them. And look at this!”
She gave the Goldfish an enthusiastic thump.

“They need help,”
said Eenyo.

“Isn't it enough that we have those two useless Krakkiluks making the place look untidy without you adding more clutter?”
complained Ningleenill, perching on a root well above the rest of us and
yelling down.
“Is this a rebel stronghold or a sanctuary for alien strays?”

“But aren't they interesting?”
said Uwaelee, crestfallen, while the two Krakkiluks made a mournful noise.
“They cannot even fly. Look how few arms and legs they have.”

“Plenty of creatures of the Grand Expanse have that many legs, or even fewer,”
huffed Ningleenill.

“Excuse me,” I said, because I was getting tired of being talked over. “But we're not from the Grand Expanse, and it's
not
just that we need your help. We might be able to help
you.
”

“We've got a very powerful computer,” said Josephine.

Ningleenill flapped into the air and gave the Goldfish an ill-tempered poke.
“This is the powerful computer? It looks like a baby's toy.”

“I'm not a toy, sir!” said the Goldfish. “I'm a
teacher
. Although learning is the best kind of fun!”

“Are you up-to-date on Krakkiluk technology?”
demanded Ningleenill, and I did feel sorry for the Goldfish, having to translate the other side of an argument it was having.

“We didn't know the Krakkiluks existed until a few days ago,” I admitted.

“Is Krakkiluk tech that much better than yours?”
Josephine asked, cocking her head.

“Inevitably, Krakkiluk technology is by far the most advanced,”
said Kat-li-Yaka.
“. . . Because the Grand Expanse suppresses everyone else,”
she added after a slight pause, when Eenyo and Qualt-zu-Quo looked at her disapprovingly.

“I'm the very latest in human AI technology with Häxeri and neat turbo thrusters!” the Goldfish replied sunnily. “Josephine here did a super job of upgrading me.”

Josephine grimaced. I suspected mentioning her part in its level of sophistication might be a mistake, and I wasn't wrong.

“And how old is that one?” said Ningleenill.

“I'm forty-seven,” put in Josephine instantly, but it was no good.

“She's just thirteen but so smart she's already taking her baccalaureate! Boy, I'm proud of her,” said the Goldfish, and Josephine looked surprised, and pleased, and surprised at being pleased all in a moment.

“Then why do you imagine you could do better than my own computers?”
Ningleenill sniffed.
“Have you devoted seventy-five years to this one task? I am not having my life's work fiddled with by some alien child's plaything!”

“Well, that's rude,” said the Goldfish.

“They're sick. Yaela's atmosphere is toxic to them,”
said Hoolinyae.

Ningleenill hesitated, and his face seemed to soften a little.
“Oh, well, help them if you like,”
he conceded.
“But keep them out of the way. Put them over there with the Krakkiluks.”

He flapped away.

Hoolinyae and Eenyo looked at us rather helplessly. Uwaelee's ears had gone sad and flat.

“He's quite kind when you get to know him,”
said Hoolinyae.

“Uwaelee, you may stay for this evening, but then you must go,”
said Eenyo, as Hoolinyae flapped off after Ningleenill.

There was a horizontal loop of roots bulging out of a wall, over which metal beams and plasticky sheets had been laid to make a floor. The two Krakkiluks scuttled up there, and as we didn't have anything else to do, we did as we were told and sat over there with the Krakkiluks. Well, except for Uwaelee, who latched on to a higher twist of root and dangled there, loftily ignoring them.

“He doesn't have to be so unkind,”
said Kat-li-Yaka gloomily, patting the head of one of the Wurrhuya, who were still happily feeding.
“It's not
as if we're like other Krakkiluks.”

Uwaelee snorted skeptically from inside her wings.

“Who
is
he?” said Josephine.

“Ningleenil is a brilliant scientist,”
said Qualt-zu-Quo.
“He was from a wealthy family, and he was so talented he was permitted to study at Krakkiluk schools. When he was young, some of the richest families were not forced to wear the collar.”

“But he secretly gave all his money to the Free Eemala and then he told everyone the Grand Expanse was wicked and he went into hiding!”
Uwaelee burst out, erupting from her wings. Then she caught sight of the Krakkiluks, snorted, and wrapped herself up in them again as if no such thing had happened.

“
So, how did you guys end up . . . not being like other Krakkiluks?” Carl asked.

“Is it true that you are thirteen years old?”
Qualt-zu-Quo asked Josephine instead of answering. He eyed Uwaelee uncomfortably.
“How long is a year, on your planet? Forgive my asking, but are you . . . adults?”

“No,” said Josephine bullishly. “We're still spawn aged.”

“Akk,”
said Kat-li-Yaka, disconcerted, and though
neither of them moved away from us, it looked as if it took them a conscious effort not to.

“We are very glad to sit and talk with you!”
said Qualt-zu-Quo loudly after a pause.

“Yes. We are both very glad to be here. With spawn,”
said Kat-li-Yaka. They both reached out long multijointed arms and gingerly patted us.

“
Okay, that's fine, please stop touching us now,” said Josephine.

Eenyo came flapping down from a higher level, bringing more of the papery stuff we'd eaten before.

“You may be able to digest this. Very simple carbohydrates and sugars. And we are contacting an ally in another city—we think we can bring you gases you can breathe safely. Do you know what you need?”

We all cringed a little in anticipation. Of course a question like that was bound to get the Goldfish's attention.

“
Well, guys?” demanded the Goldfish. “Alice, I know you know this. Carl, I want to hear from
you
.”

Carl groaned. “I dunno, mostly nitrogen?”

The Goldfish paused. “That's not
wrong
, Carl, but hey, you can be a little more specific than that.”

Carl stared at it and then had a heavy fit of coughing that I didn't think was actually natural.

“Seventy-eight percent nitrogen, twenty-one percent oxygen, one percent gases that don't matter right now,” said Josephine wearily.

The Goldfish hadn't learned the words for nitrogen or oxygen yet, so Eenyo didn't know what we were talking about. The Goldfish projected a diagram of their atomic structures into the air, and Eenyo said, “Ahh! Elahiya-laheelon!” and made a note on a little roll of papery stuff from his pouch belt.

“Well, that's something,” said Carl heavily as we contemplated a future of living in a cave, hooked up to a nitrogen supply, eating simple carbohydrates.